


Equal Opportunity Employer

by Tallulah_Rasa



Category: Highlander: The Series, Iron Man (Movies), Leverage, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Stargate Atlantis, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Big Bang Theory (TV), The West Wing, White Collar
Genre: Crossover, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-11
Updated: 2014-07-11
Packaged: 2018-02-08 07:09:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1931415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tallulah_Rasa/pseuds/Tallulah_Rasa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stark Industries has a lot of employees.  Some, Tony hires himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Equal Opportunity Employer

**Author's Note:**

> This is actually "Five Times Tony Stark Went Around SI's HR Department, and One Time He Didn't," but that seemed like a _really ___long title. The six different crossovers here are unrelated, so you can skip bits if you're unfamiliar with a particular fandom. The running order is: 1. Leverage, 2. White Collar, 3. The West Wing (actually, kind of a WW AU), 4. Stargate Atlantis, and 5. The Big Bang Theory, with HL:TS bringing up the rear. Bruce Banner appears in the HL bit.

 

**1\. You Can't Be Too Secure**

He’d traded in his jeans and Metallica tee shirt for a conservative suit, consciously used a shorter stride, driven a horribly ordinary car, and parked in a different spot, but still, he was only half-way through the parking garage – along the wall; he was being _cautious_ , damn it – when he heard the echo of footsteps shadowing his own. 

_The suit’s a target,_ Pepper had said.  
  
The footsteps turned into a solid presence behind him. 

_No, **I’m**_ _the target,_ Tony thought wearily. Next time, he was taking the damned suit with him, no matter what she said.

“Stark,” a gravelly voice said.  
  
Tony stopped, trying to ignore the hair prickling on the back of his neck.  "The last person who tried to take something from me ended up...well, let's just say, dead," he said.

“I don’t want to take anything from you,” man behind him said.  The voice was – not quite familiar, but Tony had heard it before.  He turned around slowly, hands up.

His would-be assailant was in front of him now, but still mostly shadowed.  “I just want to ask you something,” he said, and yeah, they’d met before.  “ _For_ something _,_ ” the man clarified.

“The last time you asked me for something,” Tony said, “an eastern European government fell the next day.”

“Croatia was liberated, and it took a few days,” the man corrected.  “Though I can neither confirm nor deny having anything to do with that.”

“Just a coincidence,” Tony said, but he relaxed a bit.

“Strange things happen all over,” the man said.  “A while back, I heard that aliens invaded New York and a bunch of superheroes took them out.”

Tony stared at the man steadily. “Yeah, about that – you know I’m not in the weapons business anymore, right?”

“Yes, sir.  I’m not, either.”

Tony gave him a look.

“Not generally,” the man said.  “Sometimes I…on occasion, I have to…” He scowled.  “It’s complicated,” he said impatiently.  “But look, I’m not here about weapons.  I’m here about something else.”

“A lot of things that aren’t weapons, strictly speaking, can be used as weapons,” Tony said.  “And look, it’s not that I’m unsympathetic to certain political causes, but weapons don’t always end up where you _think_ they will, as I found out first-hand on a trip to lovely rural Afghanistan, where--"

“I know,” the man interrupted.  “Believe me.  But this isn’t – it’s about a friend.  Two friends, actually.”

“Huh,” Tony said.

“Surprised I have friends?” the man asked dryly.

“Kind of.  Kind of surprised that I understand.  So…your friends.  Tell me.”

“It’s…” The man said several things with his hands, rolling his eyes in frustration when he couldn’t find words to follow suit.  “My friends -- they’ve been through some rough times, and…”

“And…?”

“Could you maybe let them…hack your security?  Just a little?”

Tony could feel his jaw drop.  “You have to be--”

“I was thinking you could hire them as security consultants,” the man said in a rush.  “Just let them poke around and maybe…find-a-hole-they-can-feel-superior-about-fixing.”

Tony had started scanning data on his StarkPhone halfway through the man’s speech. “Wait.  You work with Alec Hardison?”

“I can neither confirm nor deny that,” the man said, without losing a beat, and with an almost straight face.

“And…and Parker, is she the one who…?”

“I can neither…oh, hell.  Probably.”

“Okay,” Tony said.

“Look, this was a bad idea; I’ll just go and--”

“But I have two conditions.”

“Right, I’ll --wait. Okay?”

“With two conditions,” Tony repeated.

The man looked at him expectantly.

“First,” Tony said, “I’m kind of flying under the radar at the moment.  Different car, different clothes, different parking place than usual.  How’d you know I was here?”

The man looked pointedly at Tony’s chest.  “Your, uh…”

Tony’s eyes narrowed.  “You’re tracing the signature of my arc reactor?”

The man made a face.  “Of course not.  No, it’s just…it has a very distinctive sound,” he said.

“Righhht,” Tony said.

“And…I dated Pepper.  Once.  A long time ago.  We kind of keep in touch.”

“Okay,” Tony said.  “More information than I really needed.  Just have Hardison and Parker contact Pepper, okay?  She’ll work out the details, and take care of the paper work.  There’s going to be paperwork, right?  I mean, this is above board, yes?  I’m not just inviting you in to rob me blind and destroy my life?  Because you have to know, that kind of thing might annoy _my_ friends.  And one of them is a demi-god, and one of them is a rage monster.  And then there’s Captain America  -- he can be _really_ annoying.”

“One of your friends is Natasha Romanoff,” the man said with a small smile.  “That’s really all you have to say.”

“I take it you’ve met?”

“You could say that.  We sort of…dated.  Once.  A long time ago.  But anyway, no stealing, no destroying.  You have my word.”

“Good enough,” Tony said.

“You said _two_ conditions…?”

Tony gave an embarrassed grin. “ Say hi to…uh, I knew her as Marguerite de la Fontaine.”

“We call her Sophie,” the man said, meeting Tony’s smile with one of his own.  “But I’ll do that.”

“Well, it’s been fun, as always,” Tony said, “but I’ve got a Board of Directors to annoy, so…”

The man nodded, but then reached out until he was almost, but not quite, touching Tony.  “It’s a good thing you’re doing,” he said softly.  “Not just Iron Man, though that’s pretty damned awesome.  But the thing with the energy, and  walking away from the weapons business – those are good things.  I don’t think I could do it, but I think…if there’s any hope for ending the fighting, the wars…it’s your way.”

“I can’t take any credit for the change in outlook,” Tony said steadily. “My outlook …got changed for me.”

“Afghanistan will do that to a person,” the man said, and their eyes met.  “Next time you’re in Portland, stop by the Bridgeport Brew Pub.  I’ll buy you a drink.”

“I might do that,” Tony said, extending his hand.

The man shook it.  “Thank you, Stark.”

“Always a pleasure, Spencer,” Tony said over his shoulder, and he headed for his meeting as Eliot faded into the shadows.

 

**2\.  Beauty is Not Only in the Eye of the Beholder, But is Also Heavily Insured**

Tony stumbled onto the elevator, the smell of solder and oil and charred wiring – the smell of his workshop, of _home_ – trailing him like a blanket.  “Home, James,” he said wearily. 

JARVIS’ voice filled the small space.  “I wouldn’t go up to the penthouse just yet, Sir.”

Tony looked down at his grease-stained pants, his shredded shirt, the burned remains of his sneakers.  “I’m not dressed for it?”

If JARVIS were prone to snickering, he would have snickered then.  “Your attire is as elegant as always after a weekend in your workshop, Sir.  But the penthouse at this moment is…not empty.”

Tony stopped the elevator.  “Pepper’s in California.  The Wonder Twins are on assignment, Bruce is wherever Bruce goes when he’s spent too much time thinking about breaking Harlem, Thor’s with Jane, and Captain America’s taking disadvantaged Boy Scouts to Coney Island for the day.  That leaves…Fury?  HYDRA?  Should I be worried?”

“Mr. Caffrey is in the penthouse, Sir.”

Tony let out a breath and restarted the elevator. 

“Give a guy a heart attack, why don’t you, JARVIS.  Is Caffrey trying to take anything?”

“No, Sir.  Just…I believe you termed it, ‘window shopping.’”

“The new Matisse?”

“The new Wyeth, Sir.”

“Pepper likes that one,” Tony mused.  “Uh…J?  Why are we stopping on this floor?”

“This is where Security escorted the FBI agent who wishes to speak with you.”

“Don’t I have people to speak to the FBI for me?” Tony asked, keeping his finger on the ‘Close Door’ button.

“Yes,  Sir.  But you’ll want to speak to this FBI agent yourself.”

“Because…?” Tony asked, but he let go of the button.

“Because he is here about Mr. Caffrey, Sir,” JARVIS explained as the doors opened on a very agitated Peter Burke.

“Mr. Stark?”  Peter began in a rush, before Tony had even gotten out of the elevator.  “I’m Peter Burke, FBI, and I am _so_ sorry about this.  I’m sure you must – Mr. Caffrey is a consultant with the FBI, that’s true, but he is certainly not authorized to be here, under any capacity, and the fact that he talked his way into--”

“Is that how he did it this time?” Tony said mildly as he edged past Peter and wiped his greasy hands on a towel one of the security guys had carefully _not_ handed him, but placed on a nearby table.

Peter stopped mid-word.  “ _This_ time? You…you know?

“That Caffrey visits from time to time to ogle my artwork?  Yes.  The specifics of when and how?  No.  That’s the point, Agent Burke.”

“The point? But Neal--”

“Has a great eye, doesn’t he?” Tony said, grabbing a bottle of water from the mini fridge behind the reception desk.  He offered one to Peter, who turned it down with a polite shake of his head.  Tony shrugged and downed half the bottle before continuing.  “He can see the _tiniest_ security hole.  Not to mention he’s got a good eye for art, too.” 

“You…don’t seem upset.”

“Oh, Neal’s been dropping in for years.”

“He’s been breaking--”

“ ‘Dropping in’ sounds better,” Tony said gently. “My insurance company gets antsy about people breaking in.  Anyway, Neal shows me where my security problems are, checks out my new acquisitions, tells me if any good stuff is coming to market, has a glass of wine, and – that’s it.  He’s one of my better consultants, actually.”

“He’s…he’s your consultant?”

“1099 and everything,” Tony said.  “Let me know if the FBI ever wants to cut him loose.  I’d love to hire him full time.”

“Of course you would,” Peter said with a sigh.  “Then I’ll--”

“Be leaving?” Tony asked brightly.  “I hate to be rude, but I’m a--”

“Busy man, yes, I know,” Peter said, allowing himself to be ushered onto the elevator by one of Tony’s security people.

When the doors closed, Tony leaned back on the wall and took a long, thoughtful drink of water.  “JARVIS,” he began.

“The paperwork for Mr. Caffrey’s employment is already being filed,” JARVIS said.  “I will have a copy sent to his associate, Mr. Farnsworth, at the usual address, along with a summary of your discussion with Agent Burke today."

“We…probably don’t need to let Pepper know about this,” Tony said.

“A wise choice, Sir,” JARVIS observed.

The elevator dinged and the doors opened.  “Tell Caffrey he’s got thirty seconds to clear out,” Tony said as he urged his tired body into the car.  “I need a shower ten minutes ago.”

“As we speak, he is accessing the service stairway via the--”

“Too much info, buddy,” Tony said.  “Just tell him to be careful, and to make sure he locks the door behind him.  And JARVIS?”

“Sir?"

“Tell him he owes me,” Tony said as the doors opened on his penthouse.

“I believe,” JARVIS said, “this is something Mr. Caffrey already knows.”

 

**3\.  The Right Words Matter**

“This,” Toby said morosely as he tossed a very beaten-up rubber ball from hand to hand, “is _terrible_.”

“No, it--” Sam began, but Toby stopped him with a look. 

“But--” Sam started again after only a few seconds.

“Say something involving the words _marvel_ or _fantastic_ and I’ll quit,” Toby promised.

“Then I’ll write the thing myself, and it won’t be _perfect,_ ” Sam pointed out with his new and annoying ability to go for the jugular in negotiations.  Really, he was going to be an exceptionally effective president, assuming he could refrain from annoying his senior staff until they – or the campaign itself – imploded.

“I can live with that,” Toby said.

“Pity,” Sam said with a tiny grin.  “Because the thing _could_ have been as…as _fantastic_ as--”

 “I quit,” Toby interrupted, and he even stopped tossing the ball to emphasize his entirely serious feelings on the subject.

“No quitting,” CJ interrupted as she breezed into the office.  “I have enough problems at the moment.”

Josh, of course, chose that moment to materialize in the doorway. “I’d like to think,” he said, “that there are better reasons for us to refrain from destroying the campaign than CJ’s busy schedule.”

“That’s a good one, though,” CJ said.

Toby rolled his eyes.

“You have to admit, this is--”  Sam began again.  Toby couldn’t decide if Sam was endlessly brave, or a little clueless.  Neither would hurt his chances of winning the election and becoming the next President of the United States, of course, though he might lose a vote or two if one of his senior advisors had a melt-down.

“Don’t say it!” CJ begged him.  Josh just smiled.  Toby decided quitting was probably more trouble than it was worth, pinched the bridge of his nose, and sighed heavily.

“…beyond belief,” Sam finished, undeterred, his voice tinged with something like wonder.  “Iron Man and Captain America are _real_ .  And we have a meeting with Iron Man – well, Tony Stark – _today_.”  He sounded like a kid who’d gotten a pony for Christmas.

“They’re going to endorse you, I just know it,” Josh said.

Toby scowled.  Well, of _course_ Captain American would endorse Sam, anyone with a brain could see that Sam would be one of the great presidents of this or any other century.  But why say a thing like that?  There was no point in incurring the wrath of the whatever, high atop the thing.

The door opened just then, and Donna popped her head in.  “Governor Seaborn, CJ, Toby, Josh…Tony Stark is here to see you.”

Tony strode in as if he owned the building – which, in fact, he did – shook hands with everyone, and announced, “I want to offer you a job.”

“The Governor’s a little busy running for President,” Toby said quickly, before Sam could jump up and shout yes, he’d love to be a superhero.  Josh moved to Sam’s side, probably to restrain him in case Stark held out a cape. 

“What?” Tony said.  “Oh, right, no, I meant Ms. Cregg.  You’re a hard person to get hold of, do you know that?  I had to have my assistant set up a meeting with the Governor just to see you.  So… I could use someone of your stellar abilities to handle PR for Stark Industries, now that I’m…you know, even more PR-worthy than I used to be.” 

“ _I’m_ a little busy,” CJ said dryly, gesturing around the poster-festooned walls of the Seaborn for America campaign headquarters, “what with trying to get the Governor elected to the highest office in the land.”

“Pssh.  Done deal,” Tony said.  “But okay, after the election.”

“After the election,” Sam said, smiling, “I was kind of thinking I’d like CJ to work for me.  While I’m, you know, President of the United States.”

“Yeah, but that job lasts, what?  Ten years, tops?”

“I hear they cut it down to eight,” Josh said, deadpan.

“Well, then.  I can wait,” Tony said.  “I mean, what could happen in eight years? And hey, by then the Maria Stark Foundation will need a new head.  A whole new staff, even, what with me privatizing world peace.  Might be a good jobs for some public sector types in need of a new gig.”

“That’s, um…actually, that sounds great, but we’re a bit tied up here at the moment,” Sam said, since everyone else seemed incapable of speech. “Can we get back to you on that?”

“Sure, no rush,” Tony said.  “Well, it’s been real, but I have to run.”

“There aren’t aliens attacking New York again, are there?” CJ asked, already pulling out her cell phone.

“Naw, I just have dinner reservations at seven,” Tony said.  “Ciao.”  And with that, he was out the door.

A moment of silence – something a room containing the Senior Staff of the Seaborn for America campaign had never before seen – hung over the office.  “Okay, that was--”  CJ began, and then she looked sternly at Sam, who threw his hands up in surrender.

“I cede the floor to Toby,” Sam said.

Everyone looked at Toby.

“Words fail me,” he muttered.

 

**4\.  Living in the Material, Immaterial, and Dematerialized Worlds**

“I’m telling you, wormholes don’t work like that!” an irate voice thundered down the lower-level hallway from what Tony had always thought of as SHIELD’s Double-Double Secret Lab.  He hovered outside the lab door, his thumb just above the biometric scanner, and shot Director Fury a quizzical glance.

Fury answered by pushing Tony through the door.

The yelling didn’t stop, but that, of course, didn’t faze Fury.  “Doctor Rodney McKay,” he told Tony, gesturing to a somewhat disheveled man who looked like he might explode at any moment.

“I’ve been going through wormholes since you were a grad student, and no doubt a C-minus one at that,” McKay continued over Fury.  The SHIELD lab tech to whom he was ranting looked mildly bored, but then, she’d been around for Loki.  “And I can tell you,” McKay went on, pointing at a computer screen, his voice rising for the grand finale,  “THEY DO NOT WORK LIKE THAT!”

Tony leaned over his shoulder to study the offending screen.  It was running his suit’s video of his own wormhole visit – he’d thought it might – and of course the quality was crap on the SHIELD servers.  “Are you the tech who created this little show?” McKay asked snidely.  “Because I’ve seen better effects on a--”

“I’m the guy who took that video,” Tony said mildly, not waiting for McKay to finish the sentence, or even take a breath, “so I’d have to say, yeah wormholes _do_ work like that.  Of course, I was carrying a tactical nuke at the time, so--”

“You were carrying a _nuke_ ?” a dark-haired man who’d been slouching along the far wall broke in.  “ _Awesome_!”

“That’s wonderful, Sheppard, encourage him,” McKay huffed.

“Not so much carrying it, actually,” Tony continued without missing a beat, “seeing as it had already been launched, and ‘carrying’ implies I was transporting a stationary object.  _Guiding_ would be more precise.”

“Wormholes,” McKay insisted, voice rising again, “do _not--_ ”

“Apparently they do,” Fury, Tony, and Sheppard said.  “Thor confirmed it,” Fury added.

“ _Thor_?” McKay repeated.  “Isn’t he--?”

“Maybe he’s like Jackson,” Sheppard mused.  “We _are_ talking about the same Thor, right?  Little guy?  Gray? No clothes?”

“Big guy.  Blond,” Tony corrected.  “Red cape.  Demi-god.  Has a thing for Pop Tarts.”

Sheppard nodded.  “Okay.  Not _our_ Thor, then.  Probably.”

“Look, I’m sure the military _thinks_ it understands wormhole technology,” McKay said, in his _I am dealing with idiots_ voice, “but if you knew anything about physics, or even basic engineering--”

“We’d know the combined properties of admantium, as utilized in an arc reactor, and the natural radiation generally emitted by a spatial anomaly of more than 2.376 seconds duration, would affect the signature _and_ the frequency of the gamma rays measured both during the initial horizon event of a wormhole _and_ its collapse, particularly if the collapse were caused by, say, a nuclear blast,” Tony said smoothly.

McKay’s eyes narrowed.  “One, admantium is classified, and two, arc reactor technology isn’t commercially available.”

“Yes, but I’m a very special snowflake,” Tony said, grinning as Fury rolled his eyes.  “I kind of invented admantium.  And the arc reactor technology.”  He extended a hand.  “Tony Stark.”

“Right, right, in a cave” McKay said impatiently, waving off the proffered hand.

“You’ve heard of me, then,” Tony said.  “Billionaire, playboy, genius, philanthropist…”

“Car battery?  Really?” Sheppard asked softly.

Tony nodded.

“Cool,” Sheppard breathed.

“Oh, please,” McKay said.  “Like _anyone_ couldn’t create an energy source using a car battery.”

“I created an energy source out of a bunch of guns,” Tony corrected him.  “SI weapons, so very _advanced_ guns, but still. The car battery was just to keep my heart beating.”

McKay looked at him for the first time.  “Oh,” he said.  “That’s different.”

“You think?” Fury asked, smirking.

“How long did it take you?” McKay asked.

“A few weeks,” Tony said.

McKay snorted.  “What, did you forget how to compensate for the delay rate of the wave reaction?”

Tony chewed his lip.  “Actually, yeah.  But to be fair, I wasn’t at my best.”

“Everyone’s got an excuse,” McKay scoffed, giving the eye to the still uncowed lab tech.  “I’ll bet you haven’t even considered the implications of admantium’s decay rate for universal field theory, not to mention for Schrodinger’s cat.”

“The cat can only be alive or dead, McKay,” Sheppard protested.  “Either, or.  There’s no other--”

“Unless…,” Tony said.  “Unless the…huh.”

“Ex _act_ ly,” McKay said.

“There’s a Door Number Three?” Sheppard asked, looking rapidly from McKay to Tony and back to McKay again.  “Does that explain Jackson?  Someone ought to tell O’Neill.”

“I’ve got a lab,” Tony said to McKay.

“I have a job,” McKay scoffed.

“Which is classified,” Fury cut in, “not to mention that Dr. McKay and Colonel Sheppard are--”

“It’s got a relativity condenser,” Tony said.  “Among other things.”

“A…?  Seriously?  Oh.  Well.”  McKay nodded briskly.  “I’ll call you next time I’m in the…uh, neighborhood.  But I expect an extremely generous salary, I’ll tell you that right now.  Genius doesn’t come cheap.”

“He also doesn’t like to be around lemons,” Sheppard added.

“Stark--” Fury began, but no one was paying any attention to him at all.

Tony pulled a spare StarkPhone out of his pocket, typed in a figure, and handed it to McKay.  McKay goggled for a minute, swallowed, and then said, “And the lemons…?”

“I’m open to negotiation,” Tony said.  “Well, I guess my work here is done.”

“No, Stark,” Fury said with barely suppressed rage,  “your work here is _not_ done.  I brought you here to act as a technical consultant, not to poach my scientists.”

“Bad planning,” Tony observed.  “Sheppard, what do you do?”

“Fly, mostly,” Sheppard said. “Sometimes I shoot bad guys.”

“Excellent!  I’ve got a job for you, too.”

The lab tech looked at him mournfully.

“Send me a resume,” Tony said.  “Now, who’s hungry?  I could go for some lunch.”

“Stark—“ Fury started, but Tony cut him off.

“Sorry, big guy.  SI doesn’t have an opening for someone who…what is it you do, anyway?”

Fury fumed silently.

“Right,” Tony said, turning back to McKay and Sheppard.  “So, lunch?”

“I could eat,” Sheppard said.

“No lemons,” McKay warned as he swept out of the lab with Tony and Sheppard behind him, leaving Fury glowering at the tech. 

“Et tu?” Fury asked.

“Hey, SI has excellent benefits,” the tech said, unperturbed.  “And besides, you got just what you wanted, didn’t you?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Fury said, and if there was a small smile playing at his lips as he sailed out the door, even JARVIS couldn’t tell for sure.

 

**5\.  Schrodinger’s Corollary: Someone in the Vicinity of the Box Will Be Allergic to the Cat** __

“So…let me get this straight,” Tony said, not bothering to hide his amusement, or his appreciation of the perky blonde in front of him.  “There are four finalists for the SI Prize this year – and you’re representing all four of them?” 

“That’s…yeah, that about covers it,” Penny said ruefully.

“Did they all come down with the plague?”  Tony asked.  “Because honestly, most people who get this far in the competition won’t even leave the room to go to the bathroom.  Last year, one of the finalists went into labor, and she _still_ stayed to make her presentation.”

“Did she win?”  Penny asked.

“No, but she named the baby after me,” Tony said.

“Aww.  That’s nice,” Penny said.

“Well, she _did_ ruin my shoes, so it was – well, never mind.  What sort of scientist are you?”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re making four presentations for a major scientific prize,” Tony said, gesturing to the nicely appointed room, the clusters of people in crisp white lab coats, the various experimental devices proudly displayed on a number of tables.  “I kind of assumed you were a scientist.”

“Oh, no,” Penny said, shaking her head emphatically.  “Not a scientist.  No, I’m an actress.”

“Cool,” Tony said, not fazed in the least.  “Have I seen you in anything?”

Penny made a face and sighed.  “Possibly a Cheesecake Factory uniform,” she said.  “I’m also a waitress.  But don’t worry -- the presentations will be highly entertaining.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Tony said.

“I even understand some of them,” Penny said brightly.  “Well, some of Leonard’s.  Dr. Hofstadter’s.  And Sheldon and Howard explained theirs to me.  I could probably answer questions, if that’s what you’re worried about.”  She gave Tony a smile.  “As long as they have to do with, you know, the color of the paper they were written on.”

Tony skimmed the sheet in his hand.  “Dr. Koothrappali didn’t explain his paper to you?”

“Raj can’t talk to women unless he’s drunk, so I’m going to have to wing that one,” Penny said.  “But that doesn’t matter; you can’t give the award to Raj.”

“Well, no, not if he can’t talk to women when he’s sober.  The prize involves a job at Stark Industries, and I’m pretty sure I’m the only one who’s allowed to be drunk at work.”

Penny nodded. “Exactly.  And also, the last time Raj won something, he acted like a real ass.  And if he won, Howard and Sheldon would go ballistic.”

“But not…” Tony consulted the sheet again “…Leonard?”

“Leonard’s a sweetheart,” Penny said. “But I’m not saying you should give the prize to Leonard.”

“Because Dr. Cooper and Mr. Wolowitz would go ballistic?” Tony suggested.

“Because I’m his girlfriend,” Penny said.  “If I tell you to choose him, it might seem like I used my…you know…” she said, gesturing to her very cute outfit, and her very high heels “…to get the prize, rather than him earning it on his own.”

 “I see,” Tony said seriously.  “But…in that case, why isn’t Dr. Hofstadter here himself?”

“He had to take Sheldon to get something to eat.” Penny explained.  “Sheldon gets cranky if he doesn’t eat on schedule, and no offense, but this thing is running kind of late.” 

Tony didn’t mention that he’d had to spend the morning fighting a swarm of giant mutant butterflies in Piscataway.  “There’s a buffet table right over there,” he pointed out instead.

“Well, yes, but it’s a taco bar,” Penny said.

“And?”

“It’s not taco night,” Penny explained.  “It’s hamburger night.”

“Ah,” Tony said. 

“And Sheldon doesn’t drive, so…”

“Leonard had to take him for hamburgers,” Tony finished for her.

“Just one,” Penny said.  “With…well, never mind.  But they had to go to The Cheesecake Factory.”

“Of course they did,” Tony said.  “But that doesn’t explain why Mr. Wolowitz and Dr. Koothrappali went with them.”

“No,” Penny conceded.  “Though…well, Raj went because Howard, Sheldon, and Leonard went.  Howard…”

“Howard went to MIT,” Tony murmured over her, perusing his info sheet.  “ _I_ went to MIT.  Maybe I should…”

“That’s why Sheldon and Leonard made Howard go,” Penny cut in hurriedly.  “Sheldon thought Howard might have an unfair disadvantage.”

Tony just looked at her.

“Hey, his description, not mine.”  She leaned forward conspiratorially.  “He doesn’t actually think much of engineers, I think.”

“Good to know,” Tony said.  “I assume he’d go ballistic if Howard won?”

Penny looked aghast at the very idea.

“And that would be upsetting to Leonard, and thus to you?”

Penny nodded.

“Okay, then.  We have four equally good entries.  Koothrappali’s is out, for obvious reasons, though we’ll have to make up something to pacify Legal.  Wolowitz’s is out, because I can’t be seen as favoring my alma mater, and I don’t want to ruin your life.  Your boyfriend’s is out, or it’ll look like favoritism.  Cooper’s is out, because he’s a prat.  But that doesn’t matter, because it turns out there’s a much more deserving candidate.”

Tony’s rapid-fire delivery came to an abrupt end, and Penny frowned.  “Really? But… I thought there were only four finalists.”

“That was before I found out there was someone in the room capable of dealing effectively with eccentric and childish behavior, of speaking confidently in front of a camera or a roomful of stuffed shirts, of handling physical work, demanding customers, and a changeable schedule, and who has demonstrated an ability to do all this with a sense of humor, a matter-of-fact practicality, and what I hope I’m allowed to note is a very attractive smile.  I need a new PA.  Welcome to Stark Industries, Penny.”

Penny’s eyes widened.  “I’m an _actress_ , I’m not a--”

“The job comes with a generous salary, good benefits--”

“Not,” Penny repeated, “an assistant, an actress, and so I--”

“And a shoe allowance,” Tony finished.

Penny stopped short.  “Excuse me?”

“A shoe allowance,” Tony repeated, tapping at his phone, having already moved on to something else.

“A shoe allowance?  Like, Payless?  Or Manolo?”

“Manolo.  Of _course_.”

“Where do I sign?” Penny asked.

Tony looked up from the phone then.  “Oh, Pepper’s going to like you,” he said. _  
_

 

_And the one time he didn’t…_

**Books Are So Yesterday**

“Tell me who this guy is again?” Bruce yelled to Tony over the sound of the fight.  His eyes were greenish, but he was still definitely Bruce, not the Hulk.  There was no point in him Hulking out; if Thor’s hammer didn’t do the trick against the small, human-looking woman who’d been tearing up the newest of New York’s Shakespeare and Company bookstores, Hulk’s fist wouldn’t either.

Captain America’s shield hadn’t taken her out.

Iron Man’s repulsors hadn’t taken her out.

One of Clint’s arrows had made a direct hit – they’d _seen_ it – but after a brief period of what Tony insisted on calling “pining for the fjords,” the woman had gotten up again.  That made twice she’d come back; the first time, after the police had tried to stop her, the Avengers had been called in.  Or called downstairs, in Tony and Bruce’s case, since they’d already been at the store, meeting with a mild-mannered grad student who’d wanted to talk to Tony about digitizing ancient texts.  He’d had some good ideas, Tony had thought, though the guy’s presentation had been cut short by the rampaging woman.

And the ensuing melee when the Avengers assembled.

And the fight _after_ that, which involved the woman and, surprisingly enough, the grad student.  And _swords._

“He said his name was Pierson,” Tony yelled back.  “He’s studying ancient languages.” His visor was up, since being Iron Man didn’t seem to be of much use at the moment.

“He’s got an interesting skill set,” Bruce said as Pierson leaped over a downed bookshelf, twisted his body in a way not generally seen outside Olympic competitions, and sent what Tony was sure was a very expensive, very old, very collectible sword through the woman’s abdomen.

“You think?” Tony murmured as the woman went down.

Pierson spun, and in what seemed to be a perfectly choreographed movement, sliced neatly through the woman’s neck.

“Did he do that on _purpose_?” Bruce choked out. 

Tony didn’t answer; there seemed to be some sort of short in the bookstore’s electrical system, and every outlet and light in the place exploded in a burst that rivaled the best fireworks display New York had ever seen.

When the dust settled, the bookstore was a little the worse for wear.  It took a while for Bruce and Tony to make their way down to the main floor, what with the downed shelves, the haphazardly flung books, and the chunks of masonry that had exploded from the walls.  With Cap, Thor, Natasha and Clint dealing with a few slightly dazed patrons and staff members, Bruce and Tony picked their way over to the scene of the fight. 

And…Nick Fury was there, strangely enough.  He was talking to…a police detective, Tony thought, but instead of flashing his official ID, he seemed to be showing the guy his wrist.

A tattoo on his wrist.

Tony turned to Bruce.  “Did you see--?” he started, but Bruce was scanning the room, chewing his lower lip.

“The woman’s body is gone,” he noted.

Fury looked over and saw them then.  “We’re done here,” he announced loudly, moving quickly to shepherd them away from the site.

“But the body is--”  Bruce began.

“Adam Pierson has got to be--” Tony started at the same time.

“I said we’re done, gentlemen,” Fury said, but without his usual rancor.

Tony stared at him for a long moment.  “You know something,” he finally said.

Fury sighed.  Bruce looked from Tony to Fury and back again, but said nothing.

“You know, I could track him down.  Pierson.  I could find him,” Tony said, testing the waters.

And Fury actually smiled, or what passed for a smile with Nick Fury, shook his head, and stalked off, coat flying out dramatically behind him.  “Talk to me about it in a couple of hundred years,” Tony thought he heard Fury mutter, and he almost yelled after Fury, but…this wasn’t Fury stonewalling him, he could tell.  This was…something else. 

Tony wasn’t sure he wanted to know what.

He and Bruce avoided looking at each other as they began to make their way toward the main door.  “That was…strange,”  Bruce hazarded as they paused to right a fallen bookshelf. “And I say that as a man who occasionally becomes a giant green rage monster.”

Tony just nodded.  The electric show hadn’t messed with his arc reactor as much as he’d thought it might when the explosions started, but he’d had quite the adrenaline spike going there for a while.  On the bright side, the weird allergic reaction he’d had ever since he’d walked into the store -- something to do with all those old books, probably – had disappeared, and his ears had finally stopped ringing.

“The digitizing project…that _was_ cool, though,” Bruce said as they finally got the bookcase upright, his inner scientist bubbling to the fore again, as it always eventually did.  “The technology behind it – that might be an interesting new direction for Stark Industries.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Tony said.  “Probably.”

“Are you going to try to find him?” Bruce asked.  He didn’t have to say who.

Tony gave him a long look.  “I know I’m not one to talk,” he  finally said.  “But for that kind of job?  A grad student, yes.  But Pierson?” He gave Bruce a wan smile, and shook his head.  “Not recommended.”

End  

**Author's Note:**

> The relativity condenser that Tony offers McKay is from the movie,  “Help!”


End file.
